


Nana, Baba, Papa

by quincette



Category: The Old Guard (Comics), The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Family Dynamics, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, M/M, Road Trips, What Happened in Malta (The Old Guard), Wholesomeness, cranky andy, let them be happy, plant daddies, under the olive tree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25516537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quincette/pseuds/quincette
Summary: “I love you guys,” Nile said. Her words was soft but unmistakable.The three elders looked at each other. Andy cracked first.“You’re a sappy drunk, kid.”“Aye, Nana,” she replied.Nicky clutched Joe to stave off the quiet, belly-deep laughter that had him in tears. Joe was able to contain his own laughter, but soon Nicky’s struggle caught up with him.“Actually,” Nile said, sitting up to face Andy on her hammock. “Nana’s too cute for you. Grandmother sounds about right and stiff and proper. Like ‘aye, Grandmother’,” she said in an exaggerated British accent.Andy opened her mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again."Huh," she managed, then she downed the last of the wine. "Well," she finally said, smacking her lips, twirling the empty glass, "Don't stop there, child. What would you call these two sappy lovebirds?" She gestured to Joe and Nicky, who ended up covering their mouths, barely managing to curb their combined hysteria.Nile's face turned serious. "Baba," she said, "and Papa."***In which Nile and Andy visit Joe and Nicky in Malta, have a boozy picnic under an ancient tree and get drunk and be silly. Nicky and Joe are proud parents (sort of).
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia & Nile Freeman & Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani & Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 50
Kudos: 616





	Nana, Baba, Papa

**Author's Note:**

> So I was working on Beyond Measure and Reason when I read about the oldest living organism on this planet and this idea just popped into my head and just won't leave. Ugh. Unbeta-ed, we die like the Old Guard.

Nile had been the baby of her family. The youngest of four siblings, she had two older sisters and a brother. That had many perks and perils. If anyone asked, or if anyone mentioned that fact, she would say she hated being the baby. But no, not really. She loved it as much as she hated it. And these days the memories that kept coming back about her family were of how good it had been, being the baby in the family.

Not that things had changed in the last few years. She was still the baby in this… could she call these people family? Maybe? she wasn’t sure. But she had been with them for the most part of the decade now. There had been periods where they had let her wander the world and experience it with as a new immortal on her own, but never for too long. Most of those years she had spent with either Andy or Joe and Nicky. The last three she had stayed with Andy. And oh boy if those three years weren’t felt like she was living with the crankiest nana in the world. 

“Why did they stop making actual maps!” Andy threw her hands off the wheel for a second.

“Don’t answer that, it’s rhetorical,” she said when Nile was about to open her mouth.

“Just use the GPS, Andy. Copley has made sure no one can track it,” Nile said, just managing not to roll her eyes. She rummaged her backpack. “I can do that for you, you just need to keep drivi– ”

“Nuh-uh. Nope.” Andy slapped her hand away. “Not doing that. Also, you need to not be so dependent on him to scrub our trace. He is not to be trusted.” She took her eyes off the road to look at Nile pointedly behind her sunglasses.

“Andy, we’ve literally been counting on him to do that for years now.”

“Ha, blink of an eye,” she scoffed. “Also, that’s not the correct use of ‘literally’, kid.”

 _Yep, a definitely cranky nana._ Nile regretted not getting more of those artisanal baklavas at the airport. They came handy to soften Andy’s general mood, stubborn fear (disdain, she would insist, not fear - but Nile knew better) of technology and near-guarantee road rage. She should’ve listened to Nicky and stock up whenever she found them. 

Nile should’ve also insisted on going to the bathroom at the car rental. Nile had to go soon; immortality didn’t come with unlimited bladder capacity. The road from Valletta to Bidnija was supposed to take no more than 15 minutes, the last time she had Googled (using Copley’s secure connection, of course) before they’d flown from Italy to Malta, and after that 15 more minutes to this quaint little place Joe and Nicky had owned since forever thanks to some shell company they invented generations ago.

The last 15-minute drive had taken almost an hour now.

 _Help._ She texted Nicky while Andy’s looking for a road sign.

The reply was almost instant. _She missed the turn outside of Bidnija. Small road with olive trees. Turn around._

Nile was about to tell Andy when another text came from Joe. _GPS a no go?_

 _I hope you have baklavas there_. She replied.

She got a wink emoji.

“Are you _texting_?” Andy accused.

Nile knew she was a bad liar, so, taking a page from Joe’s book, she created a diversion. 

“Andy, I really, really need to go, like, _soon_.”

“Why didn’t you go at the car rental.”

“Because you said we’d be there in a jiffyyy.” Gosh, did she just _whine_?

“We can find a bush and stop and–”

“I don’t wanna.” _Yep, whining._ Nile sat more hunched, discreetly slipping her phone back to her backpack. “We should turn around and take that small road outside of Bidnija. I think it’s the right one. I saw on Google map before we flew. The one with the olive trees?”

Andy gave her a suspicious sideways glance.

“Pleaseee?” She tried her best to make that puppy eye look. Being a baby in the family did have its perks.

Andy sighed, then slammed the brake and turned around.

***

“What’s so special about this place?” Nile asked as they’re finally on the right road. It was narrow and lined with olive trees with dark, small fruits.

Andy hummed noncommittally, sounding suspiciously like one of those adults in her childhood who gave her “You’ll get it when you grow up” answers to her questions.

“They’ve put down their roots here,” Andy said. “Literally. Ha, now that's a correct usage of literally.”

Nile bristled (also drumming her feet on the floor a little – she really needed to pee). “Huh, really? What, like, _literal_ roots?” 

Andy was leaning forward onto the dashboard, searching for something in the slivers of sky through the canopy of silvery leaves when she answered, “Yep. They have a child here.”

Nile’s drawn out “Huuuhh?” was drowned by the sound of the wind as Andy rolled down the windows and opened the sunroof; her follow up question forgotten as the canopy of olive trees opened up to the bright blue sky and a road bordered by a rock wall on one side and the cliff to the blue sea on the other.

“We’re here,” Andy announced. And Nile could practically _hear_ her relaxing. She glanced at her; her dark hair dancing in the wind and the corner of her mouth was upturned, and although she couldn’t see her eyes under the sunnies, she could tell that they softened. Nile couldn’t help smiling, too.

***

They were waiting for them outside a beautiful cottage nestled deep into a gated property overgrown with trees. Joe opened his arms and took Andy in a bear hug that had her lifted from the ground – even though she was taller than him – before she could close the car door. He made a whooping sound and she laughed a little, white gravels crunching beneath their feet.

Nicky’s hug was understated by comparison, but no less warm. “How are you, Nile?” he asked when he hugged her.

“Great,” said Nile, returning the hug. “I really, really need to pee, though.”

Nicky let her go with a chuckle. “Come inside, turn left, follow the bookshelves, the bathroom’s on the right,” he said, and actually blocked Joe from folding her into his famous bear hug. “Don’t squeeze the kid, she needs to go to the bathroom.” She heard him say to Joe in Italian.

“Oh,” said Joe as Nile turned to look at him sheepishly. “Ciao, Nile!” he said as Nile disappeared inside the house.

“Ciao, Joe,” Nile shouted back as she ventured deeper into their home. It was lovely and clearly _old_. The structure had arches; some walls were painted white to amplify the natural light streaming in via skylights while others were peeled back artistically to showcase their sand-coloured bricks. All the furniture looked comfortable and inviting. Momentarily distracted, Nile couldn’t remember Nicky’s direction. _Was it left, or right?_ But she found the wall with the bookshelves and she followed it to a black door that looked like it could be a bathroom.

Joe and Nicky were helping Andy unload the car when they heard Nile’s “Oh! My! God!” inside the house.

“I bet you forgot to lock _that_ room, gentlemen,” said Andy, raising her eyebrows.

“Yusuf,” Nicky said, exasperated.

“Ack, _scusa_ , _scusa_ ,” Joe said. He dropped Nile’s bag and dashed inside.

Nile was beet red when Joe found her.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean – I saw –” Nile stuttered.

Joe just laughed. “We should’ve locked it. My bad, my bad,” he said. He put his hands on Nile’s shoulders and gently steered her to the direction of the bathroom on the other side of the house (whose walls were also lined with bookshelves). “But I don’t think it’s something you young people haven’t seen these days, no? With the internet, sex-body-positivity, kinks and everything?” 

“Uh-huh. Nuh-uh, though I neversawthatinreallife I mean,” Nile managed. “I feellikeIvewalkedin, like walked in on you guys, sorry,” she mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s almost like a rite of passage for this house. We should really build a dungeon for those,” he said cheerfully.

They stopped in front of a door. “But, hey, it’s all safe, sane and consensual in this house.”

Nile’s face burned. Joe opened a door to a bathroom clad in white and blue porcelain. “Here you are, _il bagno_!” He gestured with a flourish.

Nile went in and closed the door without meeting Joe’s eyes.

“Join us in the garden after you’re done, okay?” She heard him say.

***

In the short span of her immortal life, Nile couldn’t recall ever seeing her immortal elders (as so she had come to think of Andy, Joe and Nicky – her elders) in so relaxed a setting. They had always been in some combat-ready attire; dark-coloured, sleek and packed with clever weaponry for stealth and power. The settings in which they meet had always been either extremely hidden and or ancient, or sterile and impersonal, to leave as little trace of themselves anywhere, lest the world could notice that they never die. 

She didn’t even think, in her years with them, she had ever seen Andy barefoot. That was what stopped her in her tracks when she finally found them in the massive garden: Andy in a hammock, head tipped back, eyes closed, a glass of white wine on her hand, and her bare feet dangling, sandals (when did she change?) forgotten on the grass. The only thing dark about her was her hair. She was in all linen today, a loose shirt and a loose pair of pants.

On the ground near her was the most lavish picnic spread Nile has ever seen. She recognised some of them, a mix of European and Middle Eastern fares with myriad condiments in vibrant colours served in small wooden dishes. There were fresh fruits, a long wooden platter artistically heaped with all sorts of cheese, and a bucket of ice chilling what she assumed were three bottles of wine.

The picnic mat was something at once rustic and luxurious. Nile didn’t know what material that was, but it’s woven and textured, and it looked plush. Joe was sitting on it, also barefoot, sandals left on the grass. He was tending to a small brazier decorated with blue and white mosaics, prodding on it until something he was roasting sizzled and released a smoky, spicy aroma that made her mouth water.

“Take a seat, Nile.”

She turned around to see Nicky approaching with a tray of glasses and a massive jug of sangria.

“Uh,” she said, before moving to help Nicky to carry the load.

“Ah-ah, I got it. You’re a guest. Take your shoes off and get comfortable,” he chided her gently.

So Nile took off her shoes and sat down, still taking in her surroundings, feeling a little overdressed in her socks and cargo pants. At least her T-shirt is loose and she had let her curls run free today, those were kinda on-theme.

Like Andy and Joe, Nicky took off his sandals. He knelt on the mat and started arranging the beverage, pausing between setting down the tray and the jug to touch Joe’s back. Joe smiled and tilted his head a little, receiving a peck on his lips from Nicky for his trouble. Then he gestured to his brazier and grinned proudly while Nicky nodded in approval – a sequence so natural, so seamlessly executed, just like how they were in combats. 

They were also in matching linen clothes, Nile noted. Loose shirts and slacks in varying shades of beige. The three of them looked like one of those magazine ads selling overpriced clothes and tableware, right down to the one token model of colour.

The three of them turned to look at her when she snorted, their eyes questioning.

“You guys,” she said, “are so disgustingly bougie.”

There was a three-second silence that compelled Nile to explain. “I mean that as a compliment. You look, um, nice. This is nice,” she blurted.

Nicky spoke first. “Bou… bougie?” he turned to Joe.

“Bourgeois,” said Joe, in a perfect French accent.

Andy snorted, sipped her wine, and closed her eyes again.

“I would argue that this is very far from what the bourgeoisie did in their time, Nile,” Nicky said with utmost sincerity that made Nile run her palm over her face. “They had servants, for instance.”

“ _Oui, mon_ _chéri_ ,” said Joe. He winked at Nile, letting her know that he got exactly what she meant but that he was too amused by this generation-gap gaffe to actually stop it, which was _totally_ unfair.

“What I meant,” Nile said, sighing, “is that this,” she gestured at the picnic. “looks like a video ad for Goop or something. Like, expensive, understated.”

Nicky still looked confused. He turned to Joe again. “Goop?”

“That snake-oil lifestyle brand by that blonde American actress in Shakespeare in Love?” said Joe.

“… Yes,” said Nile, defeated.

“Terrible movie,” Nicky shrugged.

“Also historically inaccurate,” Joe added.

Bless these old, no, _ancient_ , people, Nile thought.

***

“Hey, kid. So, what do you think of the sex dungeon?”

Nile choked on her sangria. She coughed, turning to see Andy swaying leisurely in her hammock, nursing her fifth (sixth?) glass of wine. She smirked, chewing her fourth (fifth?) baklava.

“Please don’t call it a sex dungeon,” Joe pleaded.

“You’re right, my bad. So, what do you think of the ground-floor sex room?”

“Whatever you think, Nile, please know that everything is safe to, um, enjoy, in there,” said Nicky.

“Totally,” added Joe. "Most days it's just a regular massage room."

Andy cackled. She was a mean drunk.

Lunch was an indulgently long affair. They ate with their hands, sampling a little bit of everything with their pita bread. Nile polished off a bowl of Nicky's harissa, a bowl of stuffed olives, half of a Maltese fish pie and countless of Joe's Xinjiang red willow lamb skewers, and made so much indecent noises every time flavours bloomed on her palette. If she could actually die from overeating, she would just come back and have more food. 

They also probably drank way too much alcohol - well, her, Andy and Nicky. Joe drank lemon water and virgin sangria, and made fragrant tea and delicious coffee to go with their dessert, a sinfully fluffy cake decorated with rose petals and pistachio. He looked just as drunk as the rest of them though, intoxicated with stories and memories, good jokes and bad jokes. They played silly games, like catching pomegranate seeds thrown into the air with their mouths and bet an obscene amount of real money on it. Nile had a sneaking suspicion that they had gone easy on her. But Andy ended up winning all their money. 

At one point Nile lay down, pleasantly tipsy and nursing a monstrous case of food coma. Staring at the canopy of green, she realised that what she thought was a few trees shading their (not so) little picnic was actually just one, giant olive tree. It has the same silvery leaves and dark purple tiny fruits that turned black when ripe like the ones she saw lining the narrow road leading to the place. The trunk was pale and it had a texture that looked like it was carved by hand. That tree hosted the picnic, supporting Andy’s hammock (plus several other hammocks hung elsewhere in its perimeter) and providing natural seating with its undulating roots.

“This tree is huuuuugeeeee,” she said. Her voice came out louder than intended.

“Yeah it’s old,” said Joe, his back was against its trunk. 

“Very old,” said Nicky from where he lay on Joe’s lap.

Then it clicked.

“Oh! OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.” Nile was very, very excited because she figured it out.

Andy shushed from her hammock. “You’re drunk, kid.”

“THIS IS YOUR KID!” Nile sat up and practically shouting at Nicky and Joe.

They briefly looked surprised before their expression softened.

“ANDY, ANDY, THIS IS WHAT YOU MEANT WHEN YOU SAID THEY HAD A KID HERE, RIGHT?!” Nile shook the hammock.

“Awww, Andy, you big softie,” said Joe.

Andy flipped the bird from her hammock.

“I supposed, yes. This is tree is our child. In a sense,” said Nicky. His smile was almost audible.

Nile smiled and sighed. Then she lay down again, suddenly feeling a bit melancholic.

“How old is it?”

“Eight hundred years,” says Nicky.

"Whoa. Like, exactly 800 years?”

“Yep,” Joe said indulgently.

“Wait, wait, wait, so this is like, YOUR KID’S BIRTHDAY PARTY?”

The proud parents chuckled.

“Well, we didn’t note down the exact date, no. But we planted the seed around this time of the year, yes.” Joe scratched his beard.

Nile sighed. "This is nice. We used to do this when we're camping, staring at the sky and telling each other stories," she said. "My family I mean..." she trailed off. 

"Are they well?" Nicky asked. 

"Hmmm," Nile said. "They are. I mean, I didn't contact them of course, I just... the internet," she waved her hands lamely. "Copley made sure it was safe."

"We knew," said Joe. 

It felt like the mood had turned sombre a little and Nile felt a little guilty. So, she rolled over to lie on her stomach and propped her chin on her hands, facing Nicky and Joe. “Tell me about the tree,” she demanded.

“What do you want to know, Nile?” asked Nicky.

“Like, why did you decide to be plant daddies after knowing each other for 200 years?”

Joe guffawed. And Andy’s hammock shook a little like she’s laughing.

Nicky scooted up to lean on the tree trunk, his head on Joe’s shoulder, mouthing ‘plant daddies?’ to Joe and murmuring something in Italian that sounded like "your version or mine?"

Joe laughed and kissed the crown of his head. " _Ambo_ ," he shrugged. 

So Nicky began, “Nicolo and Yusuf had some issues to work through –“

“A lot of issues,” Joe cut in.

“– during the first few centuries of their relationship.”

“They travelled the world together after the fall of Jerusalem, you see, trying to make sense of this not-dying thing,” continued Joe.

“But they weren’t sure, exactly, what they were to each other.”

“Only that they have strong feelings for each other.”

“ _Si, si, certamente_. Then they ended up in Malta and one night, it was a bit cold –”

“And you hooked up,” Nile grinned.

“The hooking up part happened way before that, kid,” Andy cut in.

Nicky cleared his throat. “ _Un momento_ , Andromache.”

Joe laughed a little and picked up after him, "So, the night was a bit cold – Nicolo was freezing in his tent, and Yusuf was also freezing in his tent. It would make sense just sleep in one tent and share warmth, _si_? But of course, they still had those issues, but they were also so tired of fighting and not knowing what to do with each other – ” 

Andy snorted. She lay on her side on the hammock now, looking at Nicky and Joe.

Nicky whispered something to Joe, who paused, smiled and nodded.

The story continued in Nicky’s voice. “Anyways they were still hesitant to speak in each other’s language but hey, the olive branch had been a symbol of peace since the ancient Greek time. They both speak a little Greek and there were a lot of olive trees in Bidnija, and so Nicolo went out to cut a branch to give to Yusuf.”

"That's sweet," Nile said, grinning. "And how did Yusuf react?" she asked Joe, playing along with the third-person retelling.

Joe chewed his bottom lip, like he was considering something. "I'll tell you a little secret, Nile," he began. "At that point in time, Yusuf was miserably pining for Nicolo, and it was like his prayer was answered, _subhanallah_! You see, Yusuf had only ever read about this little Greek peace offering from all the literature available in the Maghreb. Of course, he was over the moon that he got to receive one from Nicolo. He was, to put it mildly, immensely touched by the gesture. And he welcomed Nicolo’s warmth inside his tent, of course.” He winked.

Nicky reached for Joe's hand, laced their fingers together, and brought Joe's knuckles to his lips. “This tree grew from one of the seeds from that branch,” he said fondly. 

The sound of waves from the sea nearby and the crackle of the fire from the brazier filled out the silence that followed the conclusion of the story.

Then Nile sighed audibly. “That’s beautiful…” she said, and flopped to lie down on her back again, looking at the tree. “Did Nicolo and Yusuf also build that house?” she asked.

“No, not from the ground," said Joe. "A wandering couple who called themselves Yosef and Nico visited the tree somewhere in the seventeenth century and found that someone had built an olive oil mill near it. Nico had a brilliant idea to convert it into a home.”

"They bought the land around this area and somehow convinced whoever governs this place that they're doing it for preserving the nature instead of creating their own love nest," Andy chimed in. 

"Hey now," said Joe, smiling. "They're not mutually exclusive."

Nile sighed again. “It’s a lovely piece of land, I wished I had time to explore.”

“There’s always tomorrow,” said Joe. “If you two hadn’t got lost, we’d have time for a tour today.”

“It’s because Andy is allergic to GPS.”

“It's not to be trusted,” said Andy.

“And you refused to ask for direction,” Nile sighed.

“And announce to strangers where we were going? Hah!”

“You wouldn’t let me go to the bathroom at the car rental either.”

“You said you could hold it, kid.”

“You’re like, this, cranky old lady.”

“I am a cranky, _very_ old lady.”

Then Nile laughed. It was a gradual thing that started as a giggle that grew into full-bodied mirthful laughter that had her clutching her belly. It was infectious. Nicky and Joe laughed along. Even Andy couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

When their laughter died down, the silence felt comfortable. 

“I love you guys,” Nile said. Her voice was soft but the words unmistakable.

The three elders looked at each other.

Andy cracked first.

“You’re a sappy drunk, kid.”

“Aye, Nana,” she replied.

This time the giggle came from Nicky, who clutched Joe to stave off the quiet, belly-deep laughter that had him in tears. Joe was able to contain his own laughter, but soon Nicky’s struggle caught up with him. 

“Actually,” Nile said, sitting up to face Andy on her hammock. “Nana’s too cute for you. Grandmother sounds about right and stiff and proper. Like ‘aye, Grandmother’,” she said in an exaggerated British accent.

Andy opened her mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again."Huh," she managed, then she downed the last of the wine. "Well," she finally said, smacking her lips, twirling the empty glass, "Don't stop there, _child_. What would you call these two sappy lovebirds?" She gestured to Joe and Nicky, who ended up covering their mouths, barely managing to curb their combined hysteria. 

Nile's face turned serious. She levelled her gaze to the couple. "Baba," she said, "and Papa."

***

By the time Joe and Nicky got through the worst of their laughing fit, Nile was out cold on the mat, snoring softly; the food, drinks and last week's multiple jetlags catching up to her.

“You’re doing good, Andy,” Nicky said.

Andy was sitting on the hammock, both feet planted on the ground. She was looking at Nile. “Am I?”

“Your wounds heal again. I think you’re good for each other.”

Andy sighed. “Well, let’s hope I don't fuck it up…,” she trailed off. Nicky and Joe knew where her mind went. To Quynh, to Sebastien, kins in immortality who were lost both literally and figuratively. Those who Andy thought were her sole responsibility.

"We all fuck up sooner or later, Nana," said Joe, joining her on the hammock, slinging his arm around Andy. Nicky did the same on her other side. The hammock dipped dangerously low to the ground. "But Baba and Papa will be here. We'll help each other."

"Hells, this is going to be a thing, isn't it?" Andy moaned. 

"Well, you're always talking about how much older and wiser you are. She just called you out on that," said Nicky ruthlessly.

“She’s going to be so embarrassed tomorrow.”

“Oh, she will, Nana,” said Joe.

"I can't believe she said she loved us now," she said. 

"Too soon?" asked Nicky. "Who won?"

"Sebastien," said Joe. "He said she'd tell us in less than ten years."

Joe still refused to use Sebastien's latest name. 

"Well, he can have his money in a few decades," said Andy.

"Hm, and we'd absolutely tell him what happened today," said Joe. "Have Nile call him Tonton."

“I hope she'll remember everything when she wakes up tomorrow,” said Nicky.

“Oh, rest assured this cranky nana will never let her forget,” Andy said. "Now, Baba and Papa need to get this kid to bed cause nana needs a nap."

***

Fun facts:

The [Bidni olive trees](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bidni) are a native Maltese species and is one of the oldest tree species in the world. It is protected by law.

Tonton is a [childish way to call uncle in French, but also a police slang for snitch or informant](https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/tonton).

I took inspiration of Nicky and Joe's home from[ this former oil mill home designed by Italian architect Roberto Palomba](https://www.palombaserafini.com/en/sogliano-cavour-ex-oil-mill-renovation-architecture-interiors-2013). It's gorgeous.  
  
  


If you like this, I have one more The Old Guard fic focusing on Joe and Nicky called [Beyond Measure and Reason](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25362688/chapters/61496707). It's a serious one tho hahaha. Have a read :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Come squeee with me I have so much feels for this found family aaaaahhhhhh. Say something in the comment if you enjoyed this, yes? Means a lot to me 🤩


End file.
